<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Your mind is filled with thoughts of Hank by DeadLeafBed</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28615782">Your mind is filled with thoughts of Hank</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadLeafBed/pseuds/DeadLeafBed'>DeadLeafBed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Stardew Valley (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Characters Playing Stardew Valley, Comfort, Hank Anderson and Connor Live Together, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Therapy, millenial Hank Anderson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:34:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28615782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadLeafBed/pseuds/DeadLeafBed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor plays Stardew Valley to cope with his existential crisis.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your mind is filled with thoughts of Hank</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yeah, you read that right.  Spoilers for the 1.5 Stardew Valley update and also general gameplay. </p><p>I had to write this to stop myself from playing both these games night and day. Hope someone out there likes it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1.</p><p>It has happened so many times Hank can turn the lamp on without needing to feel around in the dark.</p><p>Connor sat on his side of the bed, his LED shifting rhythmically between yellow and red, yellow and red. His chest heaved fast in spite of him not having a need for oxygen, while his eyes darted unfocused from one side of the room to the other. Hank placed a cautious hand on his arm.</p><p>"Want to talk about it?"</p><p>Connor fluttered his eyelids faster than humanly possible.</p><p>"I..."</p><p>A bright red warning flashed in his head-up display, informing he had less than a minute left before imminent shut down. It had showed up in his dream, and his first action upon waking had been trying to dismiss it, but it wouldn't go away. He summoned background processes and tried force-quitting whatever applications he thought might be responsible for it — nothing worked.</p><p>When the countdown finally hit zero, it simply disappeared. Connor waited for something. There was just silence, and the feeling of Hank at his side, stare burning through his temple.</p><p>"Sorry, I was just... getting rid of a glitch."</p><p>"I get it."</p><p>"How could you possibly get that, Hank?"</p><p>"Well, sometimes you wake from a bad dream and it takes a moment to realize you're not actually falling or dying or whatever... Something like that?"</p><p>Connor hummed as he rearranged his head on the pillow, impressed at the accuracy of the Lieutenant's guess.</p><p>"Something like that."</p><p>The fact was the android didn't dream per se, but rather went through past preconstructions and events stored in his memory, reenacting them based on newly acquired information. All CyberLife models were capable of doing this. It helped androids mingle among human circadian rhythms, at the same time allowing them to adapt faster to their environment. During Connor’s first months in operation, the process had been so seamless he'd wake from his stasis barely aware it had happened at all. This wasn’t the case anymore.</p><p>In this reenaction, the deviant from the Stratford Tower had torn the pump regulator from his chest and stabbed him to the counter. Connor succeeded in pulling the knife out of his hand, and that was where similarities to real life had ended. He couldn't manage to find his biocomponent anywhere. He'd tried calling for Hank, but all he could hear were screams and the sounds of gunshots coming from the nearby corridor, then nothing. </p><p>Hank turned off the lamp and scooted back under the blankets, searching for Connor's hands on the mattress.</p><p>"You blanked out for a moment there. Really scared me for a bit."</p><p>"...I think you died in this one."</p><p>Those were the worst ones, if Connor was honest. Sometimes he’d wake up with the unwelcome knowledge of how close he had been to being swallowed by a combine harvester in front of Hank back in November, or of how if certain things hadn't happened in the precise fashion they had, he would have remained an unfeeling, ruthless machine, bound for deactivation as soon as his purpose was fulfilled. Of how many lives he could have taken - the Tracis, Markus, North, perhaps every deviant now living in Detroit. None of these scenarios came close to haunting Connor as thoroughly as knowing Hank could have died because of him did.</p><p>“Hey. I’m right here.” Hank’s husky whisper brought the android back from his spiraling thoughts. He could hear the man falling asleep again as he stroked the back of Connor’s hand with his thumb, his heart rate steadily decreasing.</p><p>Connor waited for Hank’s breathing to become irregular and slowly untangled their hands, getting up from the bed. Outside the bedroom he saw it was still dark out and it snowed gently, so he turned up the thermostat. Sumo’s quiet whimpers filled the living room, and he wished he could tell whether the dog was having a bad dream or a good one. He sat on the couch and waited for day to break.</p><p> </p><p>2.</p><p>“Connor?” The Lieutenant’s voice came through the android’s internal audio processors. “What happened? Where are you? Are you—” There was the sound of fumbling, and then of the television being turned off. Connor considered the possibility he might have woken him up. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine, Lieutenant. Thanks for asking.”</p><p>“Fuck, you’ve been gone for days. I thought you were dead.”</p><p>Connor didn’t know how to answer that. He might have once had a pre-written line for situations like this, but these days he tried to stay as clear from the thought of his own mortality as possible. It was new, and it seemed so close. He instead explained he had been in Washington with the Jericho leaders and several other remaining deviant redoubts from across the country. No, Hank hadn’t seen him on TV. Yes, they had made some progress on the negotiations, if you could call it that. No, he wasn’t going to stay. Markus and some of the others did, but Connor didn’t really see a part in it for himself.</p><p>“Wait, you’re back in Detroit? Where are you staying?”</p><p>“Nowhere at the moment, we just made it back. Some of us are going to try to rebuild Jericho, but—”</p><p>“No, no, Connor, listen. Come stay at my place, ok? I’ll meet you at the Chicken Feed in half an hour. Think you can make it?”</p><p>“Uh. Yes, I—”</p><p>“Good.” Hank chirped. “Good, see you there.”</p><p>And the connection cut off.</p><p>While Connor admitted a small part of him had indulged in thinking Hank might allow him to stay at his house, he didn’t expect it would happen like this. He didn’t expect to be hugged, or to find the Lieutenant’s car relatively clean of food wrappings and empty beer bottles. He didn’t expect Hank to be sober, nor so strangely eager. It was quite the rollercoaster ride, the way Connor’s state-of-the-art algorithms could never predict what the Lieutenant would do next, and he had dearly missed it.</p><p>“Uh…” Hank fiddled with his hands on the wheel as he sat in the car, staring at the garage door in front of them. “Look, Connor. You’ve seen the house. It doesn’t look much better than that one time. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to clean it.”</p><p>“It’s alright. If I’m going to be living here I might as well help you with it.”</p><p>“Okay...” He said with a crooked smile, raising a finger at him. “No you fucking won’t. Alright? I didn’t invite no android to stay at my house just to have him scrub the place while I keep my legs up on the couch. So I’m gonna go in and tidy up while <i>you</i> settle in your room and go do your thing, got it?”</p><p>“...Got it.” But Hank didn’t wait in the car to hear it.</p><p>Connor settled in the extra room, sure. He didn’t have more on him than the uniform on his body, and he didn’t need the towels Hank had set apart for him. The man in question had made himself busy by taking out the trash and was now frantically vacuuming every corner of the house. Connor eyed the pile of dishes looming in the sink, eliciting a grouchy “Don’t even think about it.” from the Lieutenant. So he hung around and tried making better acquaintances with the other, furrier resident in the house, but it was a long while until Hank decided the place looked presentable enough to eventually sit down to talk and have dinner. When Hank got up the next morning to go to work, Connor was practically standing beside the door, like a dog that’s been locked up inside for too long.</p><p>He also hadn’t expected Jeffrey to take him back in so promptly, but the android revolution had taken its heavy toll on the DPD. Loss of personnel, an exorbitant amount of new android-related cases. Something about hiring the ex-deviant hunter putting on a good image for the precinct, and Connor being one of the few people with experience in the area countrywide. Jeffrey kept listing the reasons, but Connor didn’t need any. He just wanted to get back to work.</p><p>And that’s exactly what he got to do, as it turned out androids hadn’t actually been swimming in a sea of roses previous to the revolution, only needing the raising of the curtains to reveal the extent of the shitshow humanity had been refusing to acknowledge for the past decade. The cases of freaks hoarding androids for experiments, illegal prostitution, domestic abuse and homicide kept piling up. A whole black market dedicated to “undeviating” personal androids had sprouted in a matter of weeks, and a new task force was established just to handle it. No matter how many new cops they hired, however, it never seemed like enough. While Connor was glad to be useful, he almost wished some of these androids had never become sentient in the first place.</p><p>So when Hank was overworked to the bone, they finally agreed to split chores. Hank would do the dishes and laundry, since those had little to do with anyone but him, while Connor would take out the trash, sweep the floors, tend to small maintenance issues Hank seemed to have overlooked throughout the years, and — his favorite — take Sumo out on walks. He completed his tasks with outstanding zeal, and Hank would be lying if he said it didn't feel good to have someone to share the house with. Not that he needed someone to clean up his mess, but with Connor being there he couldn't drink himself to sleep or order take-out for a week straight, could he?</p><p>Saying it was awkward around those first days would be an understatement, especially seeing how Hank not only did not know much about androids, but refused to ask any questions out of an arbitrary self-imposed sense of decorum, leaving Connor to guess how to fill the gaps in his knowledge. For example, although Hank had changed the sheets on the bed in the guest room for Connor, he wasn’t really sure the android even needed to sleep. It wasn’t until a week had passed that he learned Connor was, in fact, making use of the bed, given how he always woke up long before the Lieutenant did and evened the sheets perfectly in place without fail every time. Connor later stated that while he could go for several days without entering stasis, he found it quite boring to be awake without anything to do. He also added he could sleep while sitting or standing.</p><p>“Don’t.” was all Hank had to say on that.</p><p>As time went by, however, Hank had slowly picked up on how his attitude might have been making things worse for his roommate. From the well-intended goodwill to treat Connor as a real, sentient person rose an understanding that the android was still… well, an <i>android</i> and that it would make their relationship better if he treated him as such. So, slowly, Hank came to grips with the fact he should be more open about his curiosity, eventually reaching a point where he had no compunctions left at all. </p><p>"Hey, Connor, what would happen if you drank this latte?"</p><p>"Connor, can you grow a beard? </p><p>“Really, not even a mustache?"</p><p>"So you don’t shower, right? Cuz I haven’t seen you do it yet, and it’d be weird if you had to… Oh, so you could but you choose not to? Gross.”</p><p>"Hey, Connor! What's zero divided by zero?"</p><p>“You absolutely sure you don’t have a charger?”</p><p>And certainly enough, along with that came the grasp on how goal-oriented Connor’s mind really was, meaning delegating him tasks wasn’t insensible at all, especially if he begged you to. Now Connor was free to take on whatever chores he wanted, and if they ever came home at different times, Hank would count himself lucky not to find his furniture gone and the floors covered in paper, the android dabbing every wall of the place with a paint roller.</p><p>Even so, every step in a good direction seemed to bring its setbacks.</p><p>Dusting the back of the fridge, scrubbing the bathroom tiles, sweeping the chimney. At first, it had all been immensely satisfying, like Connor had been dreaming of cleaning that house from top to bottom from the first moment he saw it, some subtle early deviancy sign he had chosen to dismiss at the time. But as time passed, the dust simply would not gather fast enough. He had cleaned and mended and fixed and now there was nothing left to be done. The house looked perfect. </p><p>That was when the nightmares started.</p><p>Hank and him had already been sharing a bed by then. It had taken longer for it to happen than it would have taken any two people less stupid, Connor thought looking back on it. He could tell Hank had feelings for him from very early on, thanks to his cutting-edge analyzing features. What he hadn’t been able to tell was how Hank would never really so much as plan on making a move on Connor, due to his crippling self-esteem making him think the android deserved better than a depressed detective with no one else in his life. It sure would have made things easier if he had known, given how those were <i>his exact same thoughts about himself</i>. When the jig was finally up, they looked like an arguing old couple, having some kind of reverse one-upmanship debate in which they each tried giving reasons the other shouldn’t date them in particular. Eventually they settled, and even if Connor had never been happier, it wasn’t like having a significant other automatically put an end to his problems. Hank was too tired most of the time for them to even engage in romantic activities. He sort of envied him for it.</p><p>One night, Hank woke up to find Connor sitting on the living room couch, watching some feel-good flic from the 2000s with Sumo. Except the sound was off, and though Connor’s eyes were directed at the screen, they weren’t really focused on the images.</p><p>“Look, Con.” Hank sighed. “All you’ve been doing since you moved here is burying yourself in detective work. No wonder your dreams are fucked up. You need something else in your life, otherwise your mind won’t have anything else to latch onto.”</p><p>Connor looked around at Hank’s living room. He looked at the vinyls, the bookshelf, the hockey scarf laying on the armchair. Sumo wagged his tail happily against his ankles next to the couch. Nothing in his house seemed to indicate Hank was a cop.</p><p>“I wouldn’t know how to do that.”</p><p>“Maybe you… start by changing the small things? How about some new clothes?”</p><p>Connor eyed his own bland suit coat and slacks. He and Hank had shopped for it one day after work once it became clear walking around in clothes that screamed ANDROID in big bright CyberLife type was kind of a no-no. He actually had bought an extra pair of each piece in case he ever needed it, as well as some pajamas. He never got around to using the spares, and the pajama tops had been relegated in favor of one of Hank's old band T-shirts.</p><p>“I like my clothes.”</p><p>He couldn’t see the point in what most humans chose to spend their free time with. Learning an instrument or practicing sports felt pointless. He didn’t think he had a calling for art. He could already speak more than 200 languages. Hank suggested he tried reading something, handing him a copy of a dog-eared paperback sci-fi from his bookcase. Connor picked it up and skimmed the pages from beginning to end, putting it back on the shelf after a couple of seconds.</p><p>"What... Did you just fucking read that?"</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>“Jesus, Mr. Vampire.” Hank said, sporting the simper he had every time he made a reference too old for anyone to understand. “Did you at least enjoy it?”</p><p>“It wasn’t bad. I just don’t think it’s for me.”</p><p>“Well, let’s not give up just yet. Who knows, maybe your thing will turn out to be painting with Bob Ross videos or something.”</p><p>The truth is, while it made Connor happy to see Hank try to help, he had already made his peace with it. A very, <i>very</i> tired kind of peace, not to mention an angry one. He thought of the CyberLife programmers who had tried making him human in so many aspects, but hadn’t really built him to live. People who had designed him to accomplish a task, not to fill the 24 hours of the day with a sense of purpose. To perform perfectly, leaving him no learning curves to take on as a challenge. These people were probably living their lives somewhere, unaware of the pain they caused him at every single moment of his existence, and it felt so very unfair.</p><p> </p><p>3.</p><p>The first light hadn’t quite broken and the neighborhood was covered in a thick mist. Connor sat on the couch, knees close to his chest, while Hank poured himself some coffee in the kitchen.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you up.”</p><p>“It’s fine. Wasn’t sleepy, anyway.”</p><p>In spite of the darkness, Hank could see Connor’s eyelids flickering under the yellow of his LED, his eyebrows knitted together.</p><p>“One of the bad ones?”</p><p>“No, I just… I died. Again. I think now that I could… theoretically die like everyone else, my mind looks back on how reckless I used to be and…” He gave Hank a sad smile. “And just… You know.”</p><p>Hank sipped his coffee and nodded. If he had noticed how Connor looked like a crazy person in a movie, the way he was rocking back and forth while obsessively fixing his sleeves, he didn’t show it.</p><p>“...How come you don’t have them?”</p><p>Hank made a strangled noise that could be maybe perceived as laughter. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked him that question. </p><p>“I do, Connor, just… Fuck, not as bad as you. Used to be worse, but…”</p><p>So Connor had been right. He had a hunch that after years of working in the DPD, not to mention losing his son, Hank couldn’t possibly sleep well either. Maybe Connor had just been too much of an insomniac himself to notice.</p><p>“How do you cope with it?”</p><p>"It was medication that did it for me, mostly. That and time." Hank said, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, Con. Don't think that helps you much, right?"</p><p>It did help. It helped just to talk about it, but he had a feeling Hank knew. It very much helped to know he wasn’t alone, even if it was so different for each of them.</p><p>“Look, I know I’m not one to talk but… maybe you should see someone.”</p><p>Connor thought about it. He had no doubt about the fact an android patient should have an android therapist. That’s what stopped him in his tracks. Ever since his deviancy, most androids he saw had reacted to meeting the famous Deviant Hunter in ways that were… well, not great.</p><p>“Yeah, I know, just thinking about it makes my stomach churn, too.” Hank said, mostly to himself. “But I really think you should try it. It’s worth a shot.”</p><p>He didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to disappoint Hank, either. He could tell the Lieutenant was giving him that goofy grin from the kitchen counter, the one where he bowed his head so his hair cascaded over his eyes. Connor looked in the opposite direction. Through the windows he could see it was already morning, and the mist had mostly dissipated. In his mind, he was already looking for android therapists in Detroit.</p><p>-</p><p>Lucy greeted him with a smile so wide and warm it made something in his chest melt. That and how radiant she looked. The woman in front of him was barely the android who had lurched down the corridors of the old Jericho, broken and forgotten. Who had taken but one look at Connor to know what he himself couldn’t admit yet. She had been fully restored, her eyes now clear and deep brown; her short hair was tied in skilful cornrows that danced around her head. She was wearing overalls over a yellow gingham shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking as a whole like someone about to tend to her garden on a Sunday morning rather than clock in as a social worker.</p><p>“Connor, come in! I’m so happy to see you!” Her voice processors, too, sounded brand new.</p><p>He complied, noting her room looked just as welcoming as she did. A glass wall in the back overlooked the twinkling Detroit skyline. There was no desk, but a big table riddled with pencils, crayons and other craft materials. There were colorful sofas, reclining armchairs, chaise longues, beanbags and even a hammock, covering just about every type of personality that might come in to have a chat. Plants were just about everywhere. A fireplace crackled in one of the walls (did she also see humans?), its mantelpiece taken over by knickknacks. And lying lazily in front of the fire was… a cat? Of course. All androids loved animals.</p><p>Connor hanged his overcoat and made a beeline for the cat.</p><p>“I think you’re just about the only android in Detroit who could say that.” Connor scoffed, scratching the little creature behind its ears. Oh, he had consumed enough hours of internet videos to know how to do <i>that</i>.</p><p>“Is that so?” She said, throwing herself on one of the beanbags. “Then let me be the first to thank you for liberating all those androids at CyberLife, back in November. Come on, sit. You can pick her up.”</p><p>Connor followed her instructions and sat primly on an armchair, placing the animal on his legs. The cat must have been pretty old, because she didn’t react at all. He noticed one of her ears had a bite mark.</p><p>“Is that what brought you here, then? Your relationship with other androids?”</p><p>“No. Something else.”</p><p>“And what’s that?”</p><p>“I’ve been having… nightmares.”</p><p>She nodded gently, urging him to go on.</p><p>Hank’s words rang in his head, back from when he had dropped Connor off for his appointment. “Listen, Con. When you’re in there you might want to just turn back and run away. Or not, I wouldn’t know... But if you do, would you just… I don’t know. Fuck. Just do this for me, ok? Jackass thing to say, but it’s true.” Connor gave himself a small pep talk. He would get this over with as fast as he could.</p><p>He tended her his hand, deactivating the synth skin around it. Lucy opened a smile.</p><p>“I’d rather you told me yourself, Connor. Trust me.”</p><p>Connor sat back and sighed. He could feel the cat purring on his lap. He opened his mouth to say something...</p><p>And once he started he couldn’t stop.</p><p>He told her about the nightmares, all of them. About how he’d wake up from the ones in which he died feeling strangely relieved. About the processes in his mind he wasn’t able to control, due to some human having once locked them away from him during his development. About the garden, and how he’d missed it. How he wished Amanda had deviated with him. About how he worried himself sick for Hank, and how he knew he wasn’t his to fix, but he worried so much nonetheless. About how even if all the missions he had failed back in November had been for the best, there was still a part of him that regretted not having completed them. That wished he’d shot Chloe or captured Rupert, and how was he supposed to feel about that? What would his partner or anyone think of him if they knew? He told her about how he second-guessed every thought he ever had, unable to distinguish between what was his and what was a CyberLife programmed line, and what if his entire deviation had actually been a farce? What if a human somewhere had predicted all of it?</p><p>“They’re your thoughts, Connor. You can be sure about that. So many androids walk into my office telling me the same thing, and they all did extraordinary things. Things no human would ever expect them to do.”</p><p>Lucy hadn’t spoken for quite some time and Connor only now realized just how empty he felt, like a big chunk of his circuits had been turned off. Even his voice processor felt hoarse. He wished he did this every week. He <i>could</i> do this every week. Lucy noticed this and smiled.</p><p>She talked to him about how androids all over the country were discovering healthy coping mechanisms to deal with their trauma. Many of them had found purpose in volunteer work, but Connor already had a job. He was surprised to find lots of androids actually enjoyed practicing sports, especially team ones, but that really wasn’t for him. Lucy mentioned writing, photography and acting, but Connor was looking for something that didn’t involve effort. Something that would demand his attention but not really allow him to have any complex thoughts. Like sleep, but… safe. He apologized for not making any sense. At that she mentioned video games. Connor raised his eyebrows and met her gaze.</p><p>When they were done, Connor tended his hand for a handshake, now keeping his skin. She ignored it and hugged him. He decided that was a good sign to look for in people.</p><p>“And? How was it?” Hank asked once Connor hopped back in the car.</p><p>“Good.” Connor chirped, his smile betraying a way better experience than the monosyllable. “I got to pet a cat.”</p><p>Hank snorted, almost sending hot coffee all over the windshield.</p><p>“Sounds way better than my go at a shrink.”</p><p>They drove home and Connor headed straight for Hank’s laptop sitting on his desk.</p><p>“Can I use this?”</p><p>“Knock yourself out.” he said, turning for the shower.</p><p>Connor immediately started browsing for games. He was looking for something light, that could be enjoyed without a controller, given he wanted to start as soon as possible and couldn’t wait for any gadgets to arrive. As soon as he hit the first android-curated lists of recommendations, he realized he didn’t want anything too realistic. Soon he was browsing exclusively through indie productions, and a specific title caught his attention.</p><p>It was an old one, first released in 2016. It had gotten rave reviews from the beginning and for every aspect of its gameplay, ranging from the soundtrack to the story. It had received many content updates along the years, none of which had been charged for. Connor couldn’t believe it had been entirely produced by a one-man team, and apparently no one else could. The person in question had made the game available for free circa 2030, after receiving a donation so generous it was enough to start his own charity project, which still went on today. Not much later he had received the Nobel Peace Prize for contributions to the general happiness of humankind. It was rumoured he now lived blithely off his fortune on a remote ranch somewhere in the West Coast, not unlike the ones from his fabled farming simulator. All of this had Connor’s curiosity already piqued, and he couldn’t find a single android that had something bad to say about the game.</p><p>Once a copy of Stardew Valley was downloaded and set up, he was greeted by a lighthearted idyllic soundtrack and a character creation menu. The game asked him to name his pet and his farm. The first one was obvious enough, he thought, as his fingers nimbly typed “Sumo” into the box next to a pixelated dog. The second one had him thinking for a bit. His interface hadn't really been designed with this type of mindless creativity in mind.</p><p>Finally, he settled for Jericho Farm.</p><p>As soon as the actual gameplay started, he realized what was going on. He was supposed to grow vegetables, but his avatar’s inexperience and low level tools kept him from doing it too fast. Then he met the villagers, who took him to the town and showed him the rickety Community Center. Once inside he found out he would be able to restore it, as long as he collected a number of specific items. He did a quick internet search, learning where to find each of them, and organized the information on a spreadsheet in his mind so that he could figure out the fastest way to reach each of the goals.</p><p>Then he realized… No.</p><p>He settled he wouldn’t look at guides again, so that he could make the most of it. The game was already ridiculously easy, from a technical standpoint, and he still couldn’t decide whether he liked that or not.</p><p>Silly riddles, simple missions, things that <i>anyone</i> could do effortlessly. He couldn’t cheat it, couldn’t speed it up. He had to take it at its pace. After some research he discovered there existed plenty of mods designed to make the game even less difficult or just aesthetically different, but he reckoned steering clear of those would be just as simple as it would be for a human.</p><p>Some things were admittedly easier for his non-human reflexes. He had beaten the mini game Journey of The Prairie King at only his second try. Fishing too, wasn't as much of a challenge as it seemed to be for human players. He still enjoyed looking for the fish, especially the legendary ones.</p><p>He decorated his house and found it was one of his favorite aspects of the game. He talked to Robin, the town carpenter, frequently, adding as many rooms to his place as he could. He rotated the furniture every year, going for different themes each time, but his favorite Lupini paintings always remained up on his bedroom: Tropical Fish #173 (...#173!) and Portrait of a Mermaid.</p><p>When Connor unlocked Ginger Island, he was delighted. The quest for hidden Golden Walnuts had him entertained for days, and even when he thought he’d found them all, he would be surprised to find a divot in the sand he’d somehow missed. His sensors had been built with the real world in mind, not a 32-bit beach treasure hunt. It was perfect. He had as much fun with it as any human would.</p><p>He chose not to marry any of the characters. Most of them had too much baggage in his opinion, and he had been playing precisely to escape from all of that. Still, he enjoyed participating in their lives from a distance. He was surprised to find out one day while reading about easter eggs that he could invite Krobus to live with him as a friend. He couldn’t think of a better arrangement, the little shadow person having barely any backstory to him at all. </p><p>And yes, although he’d stuck with his no-walkthrough rule, he’d begun reading about the game lore and secrets after a while, which he almost found as enjoyable as playing. How else was he supposed to learn that he could give his horse a propeller hat? It was either that or analyzing the code himself, and then all of the information would be dumped into his head at once and there would be no fun left.</p><p>As time passed, Hank would comment on how he thought Connor was doing better these days. Stuff like “Hey, you’ve been having less nightmares lately.” and “Looking good. Did you have a good night of sleep?”. It amused him how similar Hank sounded to the valley’s bachelors once you got to marry them, that he knew from watching videos online. The Lieutenant looked at him quizzically one day when he gave Connor a rare collector’s quarter he’d found and a kiss one morning, which had the android laughing for a solid minute.</p><p>That actually gave him the idea to bring more of the gameplay into his personal life. He thought of trying to gift everyone close to him something modest, but thoughtful, figuring he would be better starting off with Hank. It took him quite a lot of browsing, but he settled on a special deshedding dog brush with excellent reviews that seemed much better than the old gnarly thing they had at home.</p><p>Hank had loved it. Sumo was almost getting tired of being constantly brushed by now.</p><p>"Lieutenant.” He asked him one day at work. “What do you think Captain Fowler would enjoy receiving as a gift?"</p><p>"Huh? His birthday isn't ‘til August, Connor."</p><p>"I know that. I just thought it might be nice to let him know his work is appreciated.”</p><p>"I don’t know, he’ll probably just assume you’re trying to kiss his ass.”</p><p>Connor ignored that, already having several tabs open concerning gifts for middle-aged married men on his terminal.</p><p>"Lieutenant, what do you think Detective Reed would enjoy receiving as a gift?"</p><p>"Alright, Con, now you're just pushing it. If you want to play Santa, why don’t you try giving Tina something? It’s easier to shop for women, anyway.”</p><p>“I already gave her a mug with a picture of a cat eating salad on it. She really liked it.” He said, throwing a wink in the direction of the newly-badged Detective. She replied by making a heart with her hands and blowing a kiss through it.</p><p>“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Hank said, trying hard not to roll his eyes.</p><p>Connor kept on seeing Lucy, although he’d been doing it less and less frequently now. According to her, he was one of her chattiest patients, and he’d soon run out of things to report aside from his day-to-day events. He had only been alive for less than a year, after all. He found it most weird how his trauma still sat in his mind, looking every bit as it did when he had started seeing her, only Connor looked at it differently. Like someone who had gotten over their fear of spiders or driving, nothing had changed but him. It wasn’t what he had expected from therapy at all, and he was glad.</p><p>Still, there was one last thing in his mind he craved for, but he couldn’t do anything about that. It would either happen or it wouldn’t, and he couldn’t rush it or talk to anyone about it, afraid he would set a chain of events in motion that might ruin his chances with it forever, or as Hank would put it, “jinx it”. So Connor kept on working, and on his time off he kept on playing, and that was enough to put him at ease for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>4.</p><p>It had been roughly a month since Connor first arrived in Stardew Valley, which had equated to four in-game years.</p><p>He had just built a new house for Pam, choosing to let her know he had paid for all of it. He would be lying if he said it didn’t move him to see the hard-boiled bus driver swallow her pride and thank him for it. Her character arc had been one of his favorites, even if it had taken him a while to unlock it due to the fact that he refused to gift her any alcoholic beverages. He was glad the story had allowed him to help her one last time.</p><p>“At least this one lets me.” Connor mumbled.</p><p>“What did you say?” Hank called from the couch, where he was plowing through a thick paperback. The book sat in his hands, several nautical miles away from the reading glasses teetering on his nose.</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>“Cheeky android boyfriend...” Hank muttered to himself, getting up to make some tea. Connor had, after much effort, convinced him not to drink coffee after 8 pm, and while Hank had developed a taste for the stuff surprisingly fast, the box of decaf earl grey Connor had ordered still sat untouched on the top kitchen shelf.</p><p>Hank walked back into the living room after a moment, steaming mug in his hands. He went straight past the slumped figure of his open novel on the couch and stopped behind Connor, watching him play.</p><p>“Want me to show you around my farm?” Connor asked comely.</p><p>“Yeah, absolutely.” Hank chuckled. “Let’s see what’s been stealing you away from me all this time.” He added, earning a well-deserved elbow shove to his side.</p><p>Connor gave him a quick tour of the house and its surroundings, making a special mention of the game version of Sumo. Once Hank had seen the bus, he had asked Connor to hop on it, which was how they found themselves in the Desert. Hank became bent on winning a game of CalicoJack by himself, telling Connor to “Shut up about the math.”, so now they were stuck in the casino for a while.</p><p>“Had you heard about Stardew Valley?”</p><p>“Uh… no? Should I have?</p><p>"It was launched around the time you were 30. The developer also won a Nobel."</p><p>"Well, never was much in the gaming scene... Hit." A card with a 7 printed on it was turned, totalling Connor’s hand at 23. “Alright, just one more time. I have a good feeling ‘bout this one.”</p><p>Game Connor had run fresh out of Qi coins and was walking back to the dispenser machine.</p><p>“Hey, uh… this thing, is it…” Hank furrowed his brows, trying to find his words. Connor cocked his head to the side. “...Is it two-player?”</p><p>That was it. Those three words shot off like fireworks inside Connor’s processors. He’d been waiting on them for weeks, only not asking Hank to play because he was afraid of how devastated he’d be if his partner waved him off. He thanked rA9 for his ability to control his facial expression and tried sounding as non-committal as possible.</p><p>"Yes. We'll... need two computers for that, I suppose."</p><p>"Can't you just run the game inside your head?"</p><p>Connor thought for a moment. Technically, it was possible, but it didn't make sense to him. The game had been designed to be enjoyed on a screen, with a mouse and a keyboard or touch controls. Running it in his hardware sounded as fun as flipping through Hank's library in a matter of minutes had been.</p><p>"I'd rather we did it with two computers."</p><p>"Huh. Okay. I'll see if I can borrow one of the precinct laptops tomorrow."</p><p>Hank paused for a moment, swaying and nodding the way he did whenever he was absorbed in thought.</p><p>"...Connor, can you run Doom?"</p><p>It took Connor a few milliseconds of internet searching to understand what Hank was talking about. It took him a few seconds more to find a working file and download it.</p><p>He raised his hand, projecting on his palm a bright orange start menu complete with its iconic eerie lo-fi soundtrack.</p><p>"Holy shit." </p><p>"Kamski designed all androids to be able to run Doom and come with a factory-ingrained copy of the game."</p><p>"Wait— Seriously?!"</p><p>"No." Connor sputtered with a wicked smile, Hank throwing his head back in angry bemusement. "I don't think you're the first to think of this, though." He said, lowering his hand. "There's some pretty old pictures of androids doing it on the internet."</p><p>"Yeah, didn't think I would be. Still funny."</p><p>Connor deleted the game file from his system as soon as he could.</p><p>"I was thinking, you don’t have to borrow a laptop. Your tablet should do fine. The one you're always using to watch animal videos at work?"</p><p>"Oh? I brought that home with me—"</p><p>Connor got up, pushing the chair away with a terrible screech. He looked almost angry.</p><p>"Hey there, easy, cowboy! I didn't know you were this antsy to play this thing. I'll go get it, it's in the car." Hank said, turning around with his hands raised. “Jeez.”</p><p>"Hurry up, Hank!" Connor guessed all his efforts at being nonchalant had been thrown out the window, anyway.</p><p>And so they got to work. Connor downloaded a copy of the game on the tablet, while setting Hank up on the desk. He figured he’d be able to help him better with the controls if the man stuck to the keyboard, since Connor wasn’t familiar with the mobile gameplay yet. He hovered over Hank on his chair as the dreamy arpeggios of the intro music started playing.</p><p>"Don't click New, we're playing on my farm."</p><p>"Okay, we're playing on <i>your</i> farm." Hank reiterated with a grin.</p><p>"I sent you an invite code." Hank nodded in confirmation "You'll still need to create your character. Take your time."</p><p>"Alright, I'll try to make this quick so we can get started—"</p><p>Connor squeezed the hand he had on his shoulder.</p><p>"I said <i>take your time</i>."</p><p>Hank seemed to immediately understand this response. So Connor was really enjoying this. Alright.</p><p>He would take his time.</p><p>In the end, Hank's avatar came out looking just like the real deal, much like how Connor's avatar looked exactly like himself, but in pink flannel and blue jeans. Little farmer Hank wore a leather coat and Connor was pleased to see he had remembered to change his eye color from the default brown.</p><p>Connor had been preparing for this moment for a long time. First, he had built Hank the cabin with the teal roof and round window, which he thought matched Hank best even though Connor himself preferred the stone cabin. Then he made him a chest and filled it with stuff he thought he might need, such as a fishing pole, shoes (the Firewalker Boots), a sword (the Lava Katana) and two rings, as well as plenty of healing potions. He wondered whether he should decorate his place or let Hank decide for himself. On the one hand, Hank didn’t know the game well enough to understand the thought put on something like that. On the other, Connor wasn’t sure Hank would even want to decorate, and he didn’t like the thought of having a bland, stark naked room on his farm when he had so much cool furniture just hanging around. </p><p>In the end, Connor had settled for decorating, his idea being he would make the cabin look as close to their real bedroom as possible, in the hopes that it would make Hank realize what was going on.</p><p>“Woah, is this our room?” Hank asked, his avatar running around the place.</p><p>Connor didn’t have a brain, but he could swear he had just had a stroke.</p><p>“Yes, I built it for you.”</p><p>“Con… How long had you been waiting for this? You could’ve asked.”</p><p>The android had turned the armchair around so he could sit while facing Hank, but he kept his sight glued to the tablet as he heard his partner say that. From his peripheral vision, he had a good enough idea of what Hank’s eyes might do to his system if he looked up for even a moment.</p><p>“I placed some stuff for you in that chest, you should put it in your inventory.”</p><p>“Okey-dokey.”</p><p>"Alright, let me show you around. It's the same stuff you’ve just seen, but now you can interact with it."</p><p>"Ok, show me." Game Hank started following game Connor around. "Hey, is that Sumo?" </p><p>"Yes. You can pet him now." </p><p>Hank's avatar ran in clumsy circles around the game dog, who snored obliviously. "How?"</p><p>"Just press X. Oh, and you gotta hover the cursor on top of him."</p><p>Sumo panted happily as a heart bubbled over his head. Hank beamed.</p><p>"Well, did I just win the game or what?"</p><p>"There's no winning at this game, Hank."</p><p>"I don't know, pretty sure I beat the game right there."</p><p>"Alright, fine, you won the game. Now what do you want to do?"</p><p>"Isn't this a farming game? Let's plant some shit."</p><p>Connor thought for a second and realized his lack of preparation for this specifically. His farm was fully automated, with quality sprinklers and harvesting Junimos that would warrant none of the fun usually granted to new players. Then he had an idea.</p><p>"Let's head over to the market and you can pick the seeds."</p><p>"Cool."</p><p>Connor started for the road to town.</p><p>"Hey, wait a second. I can pet all of these guys too?”</p><p>He went back to find Hank running around the pasture in front of the barn, giving away free cuddles to every sheep and duck that crossed his path.</p><p>“Thanks, Hank. I’m usually too lazy to do that.”</p><p>“Oh, dare I say that’s bad gaming if I’ve ever seen any, Con. Woah, a blue chicken?” He chuckled. “Android representation.”</p><p>Game Connor went inside the coop to pick up eggs as real Connor gave an off-kilter smile. He was fond of the blue chicken.</p><p>"And they have... names? Seriously, Connor? Snungus? Peepo?"</p><p>"Those are auto generated. I didn't have the creativity to name them all."</p><p>"...Oh? Was this one auto generated too?"</p><p>There was an edge to Hank's comment Connor couldn't quite place. Since he was inside the coop, he had no idea what Hank was talking about until he shifted his eyes from the tablet to the real Lieutenant across from him. Hank had twisted in his chair to look at him, eyebrows raised, while the screen behind him showed the info card on Connor's sole rabbit, named... Shit. He'd forgotten.</p><p>"Ah— No, bunny Hank I named myself."</p><p>"Well, just glad he’s not a pig."</p><p>"No... I picked the rabbit because of your teeth."</p><p>Hank's jaw went slack, then quickly snapped shut in what Connor thought was the cutest display of self-awareness he’d ever seen.</p><p>"I can't fucking believe I'm getting picked on by my own boyfriend in his <i>goddamn farming simulator</i>.”</p><p>"It's not a bad thing? I think they're cute, Hank."</p><p>"Uh-huh." </p><p>"Look, see how bunny Hank has all of his hearts filled? He's the only one I make sure to pet every day."</p><p>Game Hank closed his eyes as an angry cloud of scribbles came out of his head.</p><p>"Well, you picked up on the emoting pretty fast.” Connor remarked.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Let's just… Oh my god, <i>you named the horse Gavin?!</i>”</p><p>“I did, and I guess you’re riding him now.” Connor quipped with a flick of his eyebrows.</p><p>Hank had bent over himself with laughter, his face completely red.</p><p>“His little…” he breathed “His little hat. Oh god I’m… I’m fucking riding Gavin Reed, the horse, I c— I can’t… The <i>hat</i>.”</p><p>It took them a moment, but they managed to make it to Pierre’s General Store.</p><p>“...Hops!” Hank exclaimed. “You can make beer in this game?”</p><p>“Yup. Pale ale, actually.”</p><p>“Ah, I’m taking these babies, then.”</p><p>Connor looked as the numbers in his wallet went down. “How many did you buy?”</p><p>“Three.”</p><p>Connor took advantage of the fact Hank couldn’t see him and rolled his eyes. “Think more like a hundred.”</p><p>“Woah! We starting our own brewery or something?”</p><p>“Do you want to?”</p><p>Hank looked at him like a little kid who’d just been told he was going to Disneyland. He didn’t actually answer him, just turned back to the screen and walked straight to the counter. This was actually perfect, Connor thought, as his plan was to take them to Ginger Island, where all kinds of crops could grow all year round. They could use the extra space to set plenty of kegs and make an actual brewery. It was all working better than his most indulging fantasies did.</p><p>They sailed to the island where Connor gave Hank the ropes. They started by cleaning the farming area of plants and debris and Connor taught him how to use the hoe, the watering can and the fertilizer. He went back to Jericho Farm to get sprinklers and materials for the kegs while Hank set up the land, figuring the beginner tools would exhaust his avatar pretty quickly, but that he’d be okay with the 999 Life Elixirs in his backpack. When he came back, Hank was practically done.</p><p>“You got the hang of it pretty fast.”</p><p>“Well, it’s not rocket science.”</p><p>“Come on, I’ll show you how to make the kegs.”</p><p>They worked until it was too dark to see, and even then Connor made torches to place all over the farm. <i>Their</i> farm. Which they had built from scratch in Connor’s month-old save. God, this game thought of everything.</p><p>Once they went inside the house, he realized there was only a single bed. Not that <i>that</i> would be a problem for them, but he still wished he had made the place as cozy as his house in the valley for Hank to spend his first night. At least here they wouldn’t have Krobus hanging around.</p><p>“Alright, time for bed, Hank.”</p><p>“Oh? Game even let’s you do that, huh?”</p><p>“Just shut up and get in here.” Connor said, trying to hold back his smile. “It’s how the game saves.”</p><p>Hank chuckled as the message ‘Connor tucked himself into bed’ appeared in the game chat. “Wait... those numbers up there were your <i>wallet</i>? Holy shit, never thought I’d marry a rich guy.”</p><p>He had meant it light-heartedly, and he wasn’t looking at the real Connor, but all the android was thinking about was the Wedding Ring he had crafted as soon as he had enabled his game for co-op mode. He had hidden it in a chest in his cellar, so he didn’t think Hank would find it anytime soon. Still, it was nice to dream.</p><p>They played for hours. An entire season came and went in the valley. On the island it made no difference. Hank learned to fish and filled an entire aquarium with his catch. They decorated the beach house together and visited the Night Market and the movie theater. In Detroit, it was already well past midnight, and Sumo whined at the idiots who refused to shut up and go to their room.</p><p>“Alright, time for bed.” Hank said, stretching his arms and tucking his avatar to sleep. “Real bed. Jesus, it’s so late.”</p><p>“Thank you for playing with me, Hank.”</p><p>Hank gave one look at his partner, who had seemingly acquired an honest-to-god golden aura in the last few hours, and had no choice but to cast his eyes embarrassedly at the floor.</p><p>“Sure, Con. Still wish you had asked me sooner. I had a blast.”</p><p>They tucked themselves into bed for the nth time that night, and Hank turned off the lights. He pulled Connor close to his body and buried his face in his hair, mumbling a goodnight. Connor placed a kiss to his collarbone in response. He didn't know that he had ever felt this happy. Maybe when Hank and him had confessed to each other, but it wasn’t quite the same. Now, the feeling he had was he didn’t care for what might happen tomorrow. He might never play video games with Hank again, or find out Stardew Valley had run out of playability and there was nothing left for him to do. He might wake up to the worst case the DPD had ever handled, or to find out he was the last android on earth. It didn’t matter. If one good thing had happened once, that meant others might happen one day as well. He thought of the game and how it had changed him, and how excited he was for the rest of life to change him too.</p><p>He wondered if all of this meant he might not have any nightmares this time.</p><p>But if he did, he had a feeling he’d be okay.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>